Author's Notes: Rotten Writer, here again gang.
Okay, I know I said in my last note that this chapter would be the wrap up. Well, it's MOST of the wrap up. Honestly I thought I'd be done with second year with this chapter, completely finishing up everything that needed to happen and ready to jump into third year. Turns out I underestimated just how much I needed to tie up and wrap together to really finish this year off. As it is this chapter had already risen past 12,000 words in length, and while that's not my longest chapter to date, I realized that to do everything else I need to do still would probably more than double the current size and that's just a bit much, I think.
So, next chapter will see us finally finishing up with this year and we'll be ready to move onto year three.
We're going to see the aftermath, some of it at least, of what happened down in the Chamber. Lot of information imparted here. I'm hoping everyone enjoys and looking forward to hearing what people think of it. Yes there are some obvious things not mentioned, trust me, you'll know them when you see them but they will be adressed in future chapters, I promise everyone that.
Disclaimer: I still do not own the Harry Potter franchise in any way. I'm just writing for fun and to keep me in the habit when I'm stuck on my original work.
Now, for chapter 27 of Soul Scars!
Soul Scars Part Two
Darkness Within
By,
Rtnwriter
"-Blood Replenishing potions! Hurry!"
"-re's more venom in his blood then there is blood! How is he even alive?"
"Phoenix tears, but Fawkes is out, he can't cry anymore."
"Half-a-dozen fractures…"
#####
"Keep that compress on his chest, I want to try to minimize the scarring as much as possible."
"Madam Pomfrey? What happened to his hand and wrist?"
"Miss Greengrass said his wand blew up in his hand-"
"What!? I've never heard of someone overpowering a wand like that!"
"And no one else is going to hear about it from you, either, are they?"
"No, Madam Pomfrey, of course not…"
"Just, vanish the splinters of wood and…"
"… What is that?"
"… What is that?"
"Is that… is that a… a feather?"
#####
"Nothing more to be done, Amelia."
"What the hell do you mean, 'nothing', Poppy?"
"I mean just that Madam Bones! And I'll thank you not to talk to me like that."
"… I'm sorry, Poppy. I'm sorry I'm just…"
"I understand, Amy, it's all right. He's as healed as we can get him. His magic has been unstable, all over the place really. And his temperature just won't go down, but it hasn't changed either so…"
#####
"I can't figure it out, Amy. It's been a week, a solid week, now. Harry is still unconscious, Miss Greengrass is barely coherent half the time and poor Susan… well, you saw how she was the day they were attacked."
Daphne and Susan both opened their eyes simultaneously, but neither moved as they simply listened, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling of the Hospital Wing above them.
"Susan?" Daphne asked after several minutes simply listening to Madam Pomfrey and Amelia talking in the Mediwitch's office.
"Yeah, Daphne?"
"I feel… pretty good. I mean… it still hurts, cause of Hermione but… otherwise not too bad, I think."
"Yeah, Daphne. Me too."
They were silent again, neither reacting as they heard a set of soft footsteps passing by the foot of their bed. A few moments later a squeaking sound echoed throughout the wing and both of them sat up even as the voices in the next room cut off and a cold breeze began to flow that had both girls shivering, just slightly. At the far end of the Wing a figure, wearing nothing but a pair of stripped hospital pajama pants, stood by a wide open window, obviously the source of the noise they'd heard, and the breeze blowing into the wing.
His heavily scarred back was toward them and an untidy mop of black hair crowned his head, giving ample evidence as to who this particular figure was.
Both girls were scrambling from their beds before they had a chance to think about the action. Dimly, they could hear footsteps behind them as their bare feet padded across the cold floor but they paid those footsteps no attention, focused as they were on the figure across the room. Daphne came up on his left side while Susan approached his right.
The blond hissed when she put her hand on his shoulder. His skin felt so hot to the touch that it surprised her for a moment as Susan placed her hand on his right shoulder, similarly shocked by the heat emanating from his skin.
"Harry?" Daphne whispered, studying his profile as he looked out the window across the darkened grounds. There was no moon, that night, and the stars were blocked by a layer of clouds leaving everything outside the castle looking like a sea of impenetrable darkness.
"That feels good," he muttered, his words slurring together.
"What does?" Susan asked as she gently, almost absently, stroked his arm.
He took a deep breath of the cold air through his nose and exhaled through his mouth as a small tremor ran through his body.
"The cold," he mumbled. "It feels good."
"Miss Greengrass? Miss Bones?"
They turned slightly at the sound of the low, worried tones of Madam Pomfrey's voice behind them to find her and Amelia standing about ten feet away, both of them watching Harry with concerned looks.
"Do you think you might be able to escort Harry back to his bed?" she asked and the girls nodded, coaxing Harry away from the window. Susan led, taking his right hand gently in both of hers while Daphne closed the window and when Susan finally got Harry to turn back toward them, all four women sucked in a sharp breath at the image that greeted them. It wasn't the huge scar across his chest that shocked them, though Susan had more than a few questions about that. It wasn't the blank, almost emotionless expression on his face, either.
No, it was the startlingly bright glowing of his irises that brought them up short. The girls found themselves automatically searching their bond for the anger that usually accompanied that kind of light in his eyes, but there was nothing.
Quickly, they managed to direct him to his bed and within minutes he was sound asleep. Susan murmured quietly to her aunt, who cast a silencing charm over him as all four women sank into chairs on either side of his bed, the two girls on one side with both older witches sitting opposite them.
"Okay," Susan said. "What in Merlin's name happened? That scar, his eyes…" she trailed off, staring at the upper half of the vicious scar across his torso that was visible above the sheet they'd pulled over him.
Susan was given a quick explanation, as best Daphne could manage, starting from when they were attacked in the Charms corridor after leaving Susan in the Hospital Wing. She was equal parts awed and terrified by the description of Harry's battle against the Basilisk. The same crushing guilt overcame her when she was told of Luna's roll in the entire affair.
"We said we'd be her friends," she muttered after Daphne wound down. "How could we have all messed up so badly?"
"In your defense, you four do have some slightly larger problems and distractions than others," Amelia tried to reassure her, but Susan just shook her head.
"We had time for our other friends. Hannah, Tracey, even Blaise. We should have included her."
"We will," Daphne told her firmly. "If she'll still have us, we'll be the best friends she could ever want."
Susan gave her a warm smile and nodded for a moment before turning her attention back to Madam Pomfrey and her aunt.
"All right, that explains the scars, what about his eyes? They only glow like that when he's really angry, and he didn't even feel annoyed just now."
"Search me," Amelia said, spreading her hands in a helpless gesture. "First I've seen it, his eyes have been closed for the last week. Poppy?"
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, deciding what her Oaths would allow her to say. Amelia was his guardian and had already heard some of it. The girls were his bonded, technically a part of them was him. She eventually decided to just start. If she ran afoul of her Oaths she would receive warning in time for her to stop.
"There is a lot that has, or will, change for Harry. Possibly. Unfortunately, right now we have no idea how things will be different for him moving forward. First," she said, raising a single finger to emphasize her point. "He was bitten by a Basilisk." She stood and bent over the bed, turning his arm to show the two new scars on the front and back of his upper arm where the fang had impaled him. "And that's not even taking into account that slash across his chest. Basilisk venom is quite possibly the single deadliest substance on earth. Highly poisonous and also caustic, like acid."
"How did he survive?" Susan asked. "Was it like last year?"
Poppy and Amelia both shook their heads.
"No," the Mediwitch replied. "Nothing like that happened, thank goodness. Which brings me to my second point," she added as she lifted a second finger. "Susan, do you remember the Phoenix that Daphne mentioned in her story?"
Susan nodded.
"Well, Phoenix tears have astounding curative powers. Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's Phoenix, cried into Harry's wounds, thus saving his life. However, right now, Harry has nearly equal parts Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears circulating through his blood stream. At the moment I have absolutely no idea what this will mean for him in the long run other than, at the moment, it does not appear to be hurting him in the slightest. I imagine any healer he sees in the future will have to be careful near his blood because, unless the venom works its way out of his system, his blood could prove to be dangerous."
Susan, Daphne, and Amelia gaped at that, their eyes straying to the sleeping form in the bed between them.
"Holy crap," Susan muttered and Poppy let out a short chuckle.
"Indeed," she said.
Susan shook her head, trying to physically shake away her worries in favor of focusing on the present. "What about his eyes?" she asked. "None of this seems to explain that. And… is he running a fever? His skin is… hot… like he's sick or something."
"That, actually, may feed into my third point," Poppy admitted as she raised a third finger to join the first two.
"May?" Daphne asked.
"I admit, it is somewhat guesswork right now. Turn over his right arm and look at his hand and wrist."
The girls complied, Susan adjusting the sheet covering him while Daphne moved his arm. Once his arm had been placed on top of the sheet, they carefully examined the extremity.
His fingers, palm, wrist, and even part way up the inside of his forearm, were littered with several dozen new scars. Tiny pinpricks as well as numerous half inch long slashes across his skin. Right at the crease, where hand met wrist, was a two inch long dark scar that ran perpendicular across his arm.
"What happened?" Susan asked as she studied the corresponding scars etched into her own skin.
Poppy waved her wand over his arm as she carefully spoke an incantation and a moment later a glowing image appeared floating above his arm. It was a three dimensional replica of Harry's arm that showed, in detail, the muscles, bones, and veins that lay, hidden, beneath his skin, including…
"Is that a feather?" Daphne blurted out.
Floating within the image of his arm was a clearly defined feather, roughly eight inches in length, that appeared to be embedded beneath his skin.
"Precisely. Would either of you girls be able to tell me, what was the composition of Harry's wand?"
Daphne and Susan blinked at the odd seeming non sequitur.
"It was made of Holly with a Phoenix feath-" Daphne stopped talking abruptly, her eyes darting from the Mediwitch, back to the image floating before them.
"Holly and Phoenix feather," Poppy said. "To be more specific, a tail feather that was donated by Fawkes, the same Phoenix that used his tears to heal Harry's wounds."
"I imagine it happened when his wand blew up," Amelia muttered, "but why is it still in his arm? Isn't that something you'd want to remove?"
"That is our best guess as to the how," Poppy confirmed. "The reasons we did not attempt to remove it is because of this. See here, here, and here?" she asked as she leaned forward and indicated three points on the hovering image.
Amelia and the girls leaned closer, carefully studying the points Poppy indicated. As she examined the image, what she knew about the structure of a feather floated through Amelia's mind. A feather was comprised of a shaft, and along either side of the shaft were two vanes. The individual strands that made up each vane were known as barbs, and the end of the feather, the root that was bare of the vanes was called the quill or calamus.
The quill end of this feather was pointed toward his elbow while the soft tip of the long feather was closer to his wrist.
"Are the tip and the quill… are they digging into his veins?" Amelia asked with a glance toward the Mediwitch.
"Close, but not quite. They aren't digging into so much as they appear to be fused with. I don't know if it is because the feather itself is a highly magical item or if it is because of the tears healing properties, but that feather has actually become a part of Harry's circulatory system. His blood is flowing through the feather. And not just the shaft, either. The barbs that make up the two vanes have fused with many of the smaller veins in his arm and even the capillaries.
"Attempting to remove it could be incredibly dangerous. On top of that, the composition of the feather itself has changed. A deeper scan shows that it is as much a part of him, now, as his bones, muscles, and skin are a part of him."
"So the feather explains his eyes?" Susan asked after she, Daphne, and Amelia had carefully absorbed that information.
"That is my guess. I believe it also explains his elevated temperature. The average temperature of a human being is ninety-eight point six degrees, while the average temperature for a Phoenix is one-hundred and one degrees. As of three days ago, Harry is at that temperature and has stayed there without change. As far as I can tell that may simply be his new normal. And that is also why I've kept him without a top. I'm treating it as if he has a fever until I know otherwise and I do not wish to risk him overheating by covering him up, too much."
"So…" Amelia said slowly as everything they'd just been told settled in her mind. "To sum up, Harry has a Phoenix feather fused into his circulatory system through which a mixture of his blood, Basilisk venom, and Phoenix tears are flowing. His eyes are glowing, his body temperature would be considered a moderate fever for anyone else and you have no idea what effect any of these things will have on him, not even if any effects will be beneficial, malignant, or benign?"
Poppy considered that for a long minute before finally nodding as she let out a weary sigh. "Truthfully, no, we have no earthly idea. I don't think I've ever heard of a case like this. Harry seems to have a knack for doing things that have never been done before and I can't say with any assurance what will happen, if anything. All I can really do is monitor him and hope for the best. All my scans say that he's healing well, but who knows what could develop in the future as a result of this."
The four of them fell silent for a long time after that as the floating image of Harry's arm faded away, leaving them with only a handful of candles to light the room. It was ten minutes before Poppy remembered herself and set about badgering both girls back to their own beds despite their protests. She examined both, her wand dancing across them as she cast her diagnostic spells and within minutes had dosed them each with a small amount of a Dreamless Sleep potion, ensuring that they were asleep before Amelia took her leave, promising to return in the morning.
After she left, Poppy took one last look around her Hospital Wing at her patients before she returned to her office, moving through into the small private quarters that were set aside for her. She checked her wards to make sure that she would receive warning if any of her patients woke, and recast the ones that had apparently failed, allowing Harry to get out of bed without her realizing it before she collapsed into her own bed and let sleep take her.
#####
Glowing emerald green eyes opened slowly and Harry tensed for a moment as he stared up at a familiar ceiling. After a moment the sight registered consciously and he relaxed, imperceptibly. First, he delved into his mind, focusing on the bond with the girls to find each of them. Daphne and Susan were awake, judging by the feeling and the quite muttering he could hear from somewhere nearby. Hermione was still there as well, as was the pain associated with her still petrified state and he let out a relieved breath as he knew all three of them were safe.
The muttering stopped and he guessed that they'd noticed that he was awake so he turned his head to his left to find them sitting in a couple of chairs beside his bed. Judging from the light streaming in through the tall windows at the far end of the Hospital Wing, he figured it was mid to late morning.
He studied them carefully as they watched him in return, his eyes roving over both girls, looking for any signs of injury.
It wasn't until he opened his mouth to speak and only managed a croaking groan that he realized two things. One, his mouth and throat were so dry that swallowing suddenly became difficult, and two, he had the most disgusting aftertaste in his mouth that he thought he had ever had the great displeasure of experiencing.
"Gah," he groaned, his face twisting in distaste and both girls laughed lightly, relief flooding across the bond toward him.
"Here, Harry," Daphne murmured as she slid forward and sat on the edge of the bed next to him, reaching over to bring a tumbler of water to his lips. He drank, gratefully, and prayed the water would help wipe the horrendous taste from his mouth but he didn't hold out much hope.
"Holy crap," he muttered after she set the cup back on the end table. "That has got to be the worst thing I have ever tasted. What the hell was that?"
"A weeks worth of potions that the healers poured down your gullet while you were out," Susan quipped, an amused smirk tugging at her lips. "I'd say it's sufficient punishment for scaring us and getting yourself hurt, again, but since you were saving Daphne, I think I'll have to forgive you."
"You're so kind," he muttered, only slightly sarcastically as he caught one of Daphne's hands in his left, holding it gently for a moment as his eyes searched her face, for what he couldn't really say. "You're okay?"
She huffed out an exasperated sigh. "Merlin's beard, Harry," she muttered as she squeezed his hand. "You're the one that faced Voldemort, again, and fought one of the deadliest beasts in the world, killing it with a damn sword and you're asking me if I'm okay?"
He thought about that for a second before he nodded, firmly.
"Yep. I'm not worried about me. I'm here, obviously alive, and I feel pretty good, honestly. I'm worried about you."
Daphne fidgeted on the edge of the bed, her face a study of indecision for a moment before she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead, causing both of them to flush brightly when she pulled away.
"You are an entirely too noble and self-sacrificing idiot, Harry Potter," she whispered before she sat up and moved back to her chair, ignoring the amused smirk on Susan's face.
"You really need to stop doing this kind of thing, Harry."
He turned his head to his right to find Amelia sitting in a chair on that side of his bed, her own lips twisted into an exasperated seeming smile. "I swear, I'm going to end up with gray hairs because of you, kid, but I can't honestly, really be mad at you, since you were saving Daphne's life… again." She sighed and leaned forward, pulling him into a fierce hug that he carefully returned as best he could.
It was as she was releasing him and leaning back in her seat that he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt and his left arm had been above the light sheet that was pulled up over his stomach.
He flinched and tried to stuff his arm under the sheet when Susan suddenly reached out and caught his hand, stopping him despite his attempt to tug his hand from her grip.
"No, Harry," she admonished him, gently, but without any room for argument. "Stop."
He froze, eyes directed up at the ceiling so he wouldn't have to look at them, at the pity or disgust he knew would be there. Susan moved, sitting on the edge of the bed where Daphne had been moments before and laid his arm across her lap, his palm up and he closed his eyes.
A shiver ran through him when she traced the scar running up his arm with the tip of a single finger.
"I thought you understood that you don't have to hide from us, Harry," Susan whispered. "You don't have to tell us all about it right now. I know you still can't do that yet, and I know it's not because you don't trust us, but because you just can't bring yourself to discuss it, and that's fine. But you belong to us, Harry. Hermione had to hammer that into Daphne's head earlier this year. You belong to the three of us, and we belong to you. Your problems are our problems. Your worries and pains are our worries and pains. We're not going to push you about it, but you need to know that we know and we don't think any differently about you. We don't feel any differently about you. Everyone is allowed to be weak sometimes and with the little we do know about your life… honestly I'm amazed you only felt that weak one time."
At some point while she talked, he opened his eyes and was watching her face carefully as she spoke to him. Not once did he see the disgust or pity that he'd expected and he didn't feel it through their bond, either. He felt only sincere concern and sympathy and a deep caring that almost scared him, to be honest, with how intense the sensation was.
Not sure he could trust himself to speak he gave her a timid smile and nodded, trying to express that he would at least try. He let her hold his arm for a few moments longer before gently extracting the extremity from her grip and he pushed himself back, sitting up slowly in the bed until he was leaning back against the railing at the head of the bed.
"Oh right," he muttered, looking down at the new scars on his chest and right arm. "I forgot about that."
Motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked to see Amelia holding out a stripped long sleeved pajama top to match the pants he was wearing.
"Madam Pomfrey said you could put this on if you wanted when you woke up, but don't button it. She said she'd explain it to you in person."
"I was honestly wondering about that," he admitted as he took the top and slipped it on. He desperately wanted to button the top, still not used to being so exposed, even though the girls and Amelia had all seen the majority of his scars, he was still so used to keeping covered that it was an ingrained habit at that point. "She's always been so good about keeping me covered when I'm in here, except that time with the troll, she had these bandages soaked in potions on my chest for the broken ribs so couldn't put a top on me that time."
"Hence the privacy screens," Amelia pointed out, indicating the screens that surrounded them. "She did her best but felt that covering you up might be detrimental, long term." She patted his arm and stood, her chair scraping loudly on the floor as it slid back. "I'll go get her and she can fill you in while I go make a few calls." She hesitated and eyed him for a moment. "You know there's a lot of people that are going to want to talk to you, right?" she asked and he grimaced but gave a resigned nod. "I'll be bringing Kingsley and Tonks over and I understand that the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall wish to speak to you as well."
"Well, I'm just a popular guy," he muttered sourly and Daphne patted his hand.
"That kind of thing happens when you act like a hero from a story, Harry."
The girls burst out laughing at the horrified look he gave them at that and couldn't help teasing him, just a little, as Amelia shook her head and headed for Poppy's office, a smile tugging at her lips.
"Wait…" she heard from behind her as she walked away. "Dumbledore's back?"
#####
Harry blinked and stared, open mouthed at Mediwtich.
Amelia, Susan, and Daphne studied him carefully, looking for any signs of how he might be reacting to the news, both girls looking with far more than just their eyes.
Harry blinked again, his face a blank, emotionless mask that gave no sign as to his thoughts.
He blinked a third time and slowly, almost mechanically, pulled on the pajama top that Madam Pomfrey had made him take off when she had returned with Amelia before she began examining him, all the while explaining the injuries he had received, his elevated temperature, and what they currently knew about his condition.
Finally, all he could think to say was, "but… how am I going to take my exams without my wand?"
The women around him breathed our a series of relieved sighs.
"Don't worry about your wand," Amelia told him. "I'll be taking you to Ollivander's, either this afternoon or tomorrow morning to get a replacement."
Harry blinked again, looking blankly at her for a moment before nodding, slowly. "Oh," he said. "That's good then."
Madam Pomfrey leaned forward. "Harry," she said, gently, causing him to focus on her. In the light of day, the glowing of his irises was barely noticeable. "Harry," she said again. "I really need you to tell me, honestly, how do you feel right now, physically?"
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut when she kept talking.
"And if the words 'I'm fine,' come out of your mouth, young man, I swear I will keep you in here for another week, just for the irritation."
Harry shot a weak glare at Susan and Daphne, who were both snickering at his wounded expression. Even Amelia had an amused smile on her lips as Poppy berated him.
"But I really do feel fine," he insisted and Poppy frowned.
"Oh, really?" she asked as she reached out and poked the scar on his chest. The girls both winced as he let out a pained hiss and Poppy gave the two of them an apologetic look. "My apologies, ladies," she told them. "I know you share in his pain…"
"That's perfectly fine, Madam Pomfrey," Daphne said, waving aside her concern. "He needs to learn."
"The Basilisk scars are tender," he admitted, finally. "But otherwise I really do feel pretty good. No other aches or pains. I'm not tired or anything…" he trailed off and flushed as his stomach chose that moment to growl, loudly, reminding him that it had been quite some time since his last meal.
"Uh… I am kind of hungry," he added sheepishly.
"Hungry is good," Poppy said, giving him a warm smile as she gently patted his hand. "Hungry is very good. Try not to worry overly much about everything else right at the moment. Honestly, none of my tests indicate that you are in any danger, and despite your elevated temperature if you don't feel unwell, there's truly nothing I can do. I would personally prefer you to dress as lightly as possible, hence why I didn't put you in one of the pajama tops, I didn't want to risk you overheating, but I'll allow it as long as you promise to pay careful attention and not just ignore any signs that you might be sick."
He nodded rapidly, pulling the pajama top closed as if he was afraid she'd take it away from him, but he didn't button it.
Poppy stood and glanced at her watch. "I'll have an elf bring trays for all of you and there's also a small gathering of individuals growing outside, waiting to speak to you. If you can promise to eat while you talk, I'll let them in now?"
He groaned at that, but nodded and she smiled at him again in equal parts amusement and sympathy. "Eat everything, and if you are feeling well tomorrow I will go ahead and release you after breakfast."
"Who all is here?" he asked Amelia after Poppy walked away.
"Kingsley and Tonks, as I mentioned, as well as the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, Miss Lovegood and her father and also our illustrious Minister."
Harry and the girls pulled a face at that, with Harry muttering darkly under his breath, and she arched a quizzical brow in their direction.
"We… we might have seen the Minister arrest Hagrid the night Daphne and I wrote to tell you about how badly Susan was doing."
"Which led to visiting an Acromantula nest in the forest," Susan muttered, not quietly enough to keep Amelia from hearing her
"A what?" she practically shrieked and all three of them squirmed nervously in their respective spots under her withering glare.
A series of quiet pops echoed through the room as four trays laden down with a sumptuous lunch appeared on the empty bed next to his and Amelia growled at them even as Harry's stomach rumbled again In response to the mouth watering smells wafting from the trays.
"We will be discussing this later," she warned them and handed over the trays. The doors to the Hospital Wing swung open and the sound of many footsteps coming across the floor reached their ears. Amelia and the girls looked up, but Harry just listened as he was too busy trying to shove as much of his lunch into his mouth as he could before the inevitable discussion began and he would be forced to slow down in order to answer questions.
The seven individuals mentioned came up to the bed and for a minute there was a bit of stumbling as they set about arranging an appropriate number of chairs so everyone could sit near or around the bed. Harry gave a curious look when he saw the Headmaster place a pensieve on a nearby table, as well as the destroyed diary and the sword he'd used to attack the Basilisk but made no comment.
Once everyone was seated, with the exception of their Head of House, who chose to remain standing behind and to the headmasters left, Amelia stood and made introductions.
"Harry," she said. "You're familiar with most everyone here already, but for those you don't know, allow me to introduce Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna's father and owner/editor of The Quibbler and Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. Mister Lovegood, Minister, Lord Harry James Potter."
The two murmured a greeting, the Minister fiddling with his lime green bowler hat while Luna's father simply watched Harry carefully, his too large silvery-blue eyes startlingly like his daughters.
"As I am personally connected to this case, I will not be serving in my capacity as Director of the DMLE," Amelia continued after the greetings were made. "I have already handed over control of this case to Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt who will be reporting directly to Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour.
"Thank you, madam Bones," Fudge said, leaning forward in his seat as he attempted to take control of the conversation. "You and the girls may leave."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Minister," she said, hiding her disdain well behind professional politeness as she retook her seat by Harry's bed.
"W-what?" he blurted out. "I am the Minister of-"
"And Lord Potter is my ward," she said, cutting him off. "He is an emancipated Lord and Head of his House, but he is still a minor and I am his legal guardian."
"And the girls?" Fudge blustered, frowning at the serenely calm witch.
"Miss Greengrass was present during the incident in question and as such is part of this investigation. My niece, while not present on the particular day in question, was involved with much of the events the children investigated leading up to said event."
Fudge frowned again at that and blustered for a few moments longer but, eventually, was forced to concede.
"Lord Potter," Dumbledore started, leaning back in his conjured armchair. "You have already told some of us much of what led up to the even just over a week ago. Would you and the young ladies please go over it again for those of us that do not know?"
Harry glanced at Daphne and Susan, who both shrugged, so they launched into the story, taking nearly an hour to explain everything that happened leading up to the morning he and Daphne were attacked.
They talked about Dobby and his warnings of danger before the year had even started, the strange voice that Harry was hearing and when, the diary and what they'd learned and suspected about the attacks from fifty years ago.
Kingsley and Dumbledore both asked probing questions as they spoke while Tonks took Hermione worthy notes on their tale. Everyone else simply listened, silently.
"We were just on our way to the Great Hall to have lunch when we were knocked out from behind. When I woke up, Daphne was missing and there was a note in my pocket telling me where I could find her and that I needed to come alone or everyone close to me would be killed." Harry finally said, finishing the story. He reached for his water glass and took a sip to soothe his parched throat while they all absorbed the story.
"Very good," Dumbledore said, then.
Kingsley sat forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees. "Lord Potter, are you familiar with that item?" he asked, pointing to the pensieve that was still sitting on the nearby table.
Harry nodded. "It's a pensieve, isn't it? It lets people view memories?"
"Precisely. Now, we asked Professor Dumbledore to bring his pensieve so we could possibly just review your memory of what happened. This way, we don't have to make you discuss the whole event over again, and we can avoid the possibility of you, maybe, forgetting to mention some small detail that might seem insignificant to you but could possibly be of great importance. With your permission, we would like to view both your and Miss Greengrass' memory from the time of the attack, through to when we arrived in the Chamber to assist you."
Harry considered that, easily understanding the logic behind it, but still looked to Daphne to see what she thought. There was a steely resolve in her eyes and she gave him a firm nod before he turned back to the dark skinned Senior Auror.
"That's fine with us," he said.
The next five minutes were spent explaining how, and then extracting the memories, which were dropped into the large, rune covered stone bowl.
As the seven adults gathered around the bowl, Kingsley looked at them and formally asked, "do we have you permission to view these memories?"
"You do," Harry and Daphne chorused, and a moment later, all seven were sucked into the memory, leaving the four students alone.
They sat in silence for several minutes before Harry sighed and set aside his lunch tray, long since emptied, and leaned forward, carefully studying Luna.
The girl was sitting quietly in her seat, staring at her hands where they rested in her lap. In fact, she hadn't once looked at them, or said even a single word since entering with her father.
"Luna?" he asked as gently as he could.
At the sound of his voice she flinched and hunched her shoulders, as if she was expecting someone to hit her.
Harry frowned but smoothed away the expression as quickly as he could. "Luna, I owe you a truly enormous apology," he said, and at that her head snapped up, red, puffy eyes staring at him in shock.
"We owe you an apology," Daphne corrected him.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," she whispered, her eyes dropping to the visible portion of the scar on Harry's chest that was exposed by his still unbuttoned top. "It's all my fault. You got hurt, and Hermione and Neville were petrified…"
"No," Daphne insisted. "You were tricked. Tom Riddle was a young Lord Voldemort. He tricked you and used you. You are as much a victim here as anyone else."
"And that is largely our fault," Harry continued. "We said that we wanted to be your friends at the start of the year and then we got so wrapped up in things that we weren't very good friends to you. I saw that things seemed off with you, but I didn't question it when I should have. We didn't include you like we should have. Maybe if we had, you wouldn't have felt like you needed to write to Riddle. Maybe we could have helped you and none of this would have happened."
Harry shook his head, feeling more disgusted with himself that he had in a long time.
"If you still want, we would still love to be your friends, Luna. If I still had my wand I'd swear a magical oath to be the best friend you've ever had."
"You can't!" she blurted out. "Oaths are not to be made lightly."
"I wouldn't be making it lightly," he insisted. "We failed you. I still want to be your friend and if you'll let me I promise I won't fail again. I'll be a much better friend to you, like you deserve."
"That goes for us too," Daphne said.
"And I'm sure Neville and Hermione would agree with us," Susan added, firmly.
Luna stared at them, her too-large eyes wider than ever, for several long minutes before she finally seemed to relax, leaning back in her chair.
"I would like that, very much, Harry Potter," she finally said in a quiet, almost shy tone of voice.
Harry's smile was extremely broad and showed plenty of teeth as a nearly overwhelming sensation of relief came over him.
"Thank you, so much, Luna, for giving us another chance," he told her with Daphne and Susan echoing him just as fervently. He let that feeling envelope them, letting it bleed back and forth across the bond while Luna alternated her gaze, looking absently at the air around each of their heads.
"Now, Luna," Harry started after a long silence. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes started glowing even more brightly, to the point that Luna could clearly see it even with the bright sunshine streaming in through the windows. "One thing you're going to learn about me is that I absolutely hate bullies. I particularly detest bullies that pick on my friends. So, why don't you tell me about these people that have been picking on you in your House?"
#####
"If you don't try to talk this kind into joining the Aurors when he's older, I will," Kingsley muttered in Amelia's ear as they watched the memory of Harry facing off against the shade of Tom Riddle.
She could only nod in silent agreement as the next minutes played out. When the Basilisk appeared she distinctly hear Fudge whimper in terror and couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. She'd already seen the Basilisk's corpse and knew that Harry had defeated it and, despite some unusual results of his injuries, appeared fine.
But seeing it alive and hell bent on killing her young ward? That was an entirely different story. Harry was no longer the tiny, underfed kid that she'd first met, but next to that enormous beast, he looked so small and insignificant in comparison. Her hands were clenched so tightly into fists at her side that her nails dug painfully into her palms.
She wanted to cheer when the truly massive Reductor sent the beast flying through the air. She wanted to scream when he stabbed it and killed it, but she held her tongue both times. Nothing, however, was going to stop Kingsley from bursting into laughter, though, when he walked defiantly up to Riddle, fang pierced through his arm, his chest slashed open and bleeding, spat aside a mouthful of blood and said-
"'So much for the Beast of Slytherin,'!" Kingsley roared. "Merlin's sweaty sack, the stones on this kid!"
When Harry stabbed the diary, she watched and listened carefully as the shade of Tom Riddle fracture, cracks spreading across his form, through which a bright white light poured, before he exploded, shattering into a million shards of light that slowly faded away.
"That noise," she muttered.
"I know," Kingsley replied, all levity gone. "Same sound we hear last year with the Stone incident.
The memory faded as Harry passed out, only to be replaced by Daphne's memory of events. Amelia couldn't hear the scratching of the quill, but she could see it whipping back and forth across the parchment that Tonks had charmed to float beside her as Daphne's conversation with the shade played out.
Gasps were heard around the room as Riddle's true identity was revealed and the fiery letters in the air rearranged themselves to show the phrase 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT'. By that time Fudge was simply shaking his head over and over, as if attempting to deny what his eyes and ears were telling him.
When the battle against the Basilisk started again Dumbledore turned to the rest of them. "Have we seen enough?
There were nods of agreement all around, though Amelia promised herself that she would ask Daphne for a copy of the memory later so she could view it to the end, as, with a wave of Dumbledore's wand, the group found themselves falling upwards, out of the pensieve and back into the Hospital Wing.
"YOU SHALL NOT HARM HARRY POTTER!"
Amelia jumped at the loud, squeaky sounding voice, and again as a loud bang ripped through the air. She ducked and spun even as Tonks and Kingsley did the same, wands coming out of their sleeves and into their hands as they pointed them toward the sound.
Daphne and Susan were clutching Luna between them on one side of Harry's bed, a bed that he was no longer in. Instead he stood in the middle of the room, without his pajama top and with his scarred back toward them. In between him and the doors was a tiny house elf wearing a filthy pillow case and clutching a piece of stripped cloth in one long fingered hand even as his other hand was pointed toward the doors leading out into the rest of the school.
Closest to the doors a figure with long platinum blond hair, clutching a cane in one hand and a wand in the other was struggling to his feet where he'd apparently been thrown and Madam Pomfrey came running in from her office, her hat askew as she took in the scene with one quick look around.
"What in Merlin's name is going on in here!" she roared.
"That is precisely what I would like to know," Amelia growled out, striding forward until she was standing at Harry's side, her wand still pointing toward Malfoy as he finally got his feet under him and rose, disheveled, to his full height.
"Simply a… misunderstanding," he growled out in a menacing tone, his face flushed as he shoved his wand back into the top of the cane he held in his left hand.
"Misunderstanding my arse," Harry snapped. "He tried to curse me, and Dobby sent him flying."
"I did not attempt to curse you, child," Malfoy sneered. "I may have drawn my wand in a bit of anger but I did not try to curse anyone before the… elf, attacked me."
Dobby was growling quietly, ears sticking straight up like a terrier, his tennis ball sized eyes never leaving the blond that would dare threaten the Great Harry Potter.
"Lucius, why are you here?" Fudge spoke up from the group still standing near the pensieve.
"I had heard that Dumbledore returned to the castle, even after the board voted him out, and was simply attempting to verify that information."
"He came in, with Dobby, demanding answers, and we told him that the Headmaster was in there," Daphne said, pointing without looking toward the pensieve, "along with the Minister, Madam Bones, a Senior Auror, an Auror Cadet, and the editor of The Quibbler."
"I was contacted, nearly a week ago," Dumbledore cut in, "and informed that a student had been taken into the Chamber. The board were quite insistent that I return immediately, and even implied that you, Lucius, might have… intimidated a few of them in order to have them vote me out in the first place."
"Now, see here, Dumbledore. Mister Malfoy is an upstanding member of our society. You simply cannot toss out accusations like that without any kind of proof," the Minister suddenly blustered. "I've had enough of this farce you people have going on here. Madam Bones, I'll be seeing Lucius out. Please see to it that I receive a full report of your findings here but I feel my presence is not required."
With that he strode forward and the two men made their way out of the Hospital Wing, Fudge already muttering quickly to Lucius under his breath as they went.
"Great, Fudge is going to tell Lucy everything," Harry muttered as his shoulders slumped. He turned his attention back to Dobby who had just turned to him, tears brimming in his gigantic eyes. "Thank you, very much, Dobby," he said. "I didn't have a wand to fight him off, you definitely saved us."
Dobby burst into tears, hurriedly wiping them away with the piece of cloth he held, which Amelia finally realized was Harry's missing pajama top. "Harry Potter is such a great and kind wizard to be freeing Dobby and then thanking him!" he wailed. He jerked forward, suddenly throwing his arms around Harry's legs in a hug before he stepped back and snapped his fingers, vanishing with a loud crack. After he was gone Harry hurried over to where Lucius had been thrown by the excitable little elf and picked up the destroyed diary that had somehow found itself on the floor near the Hospital Wing doors and brought it back, setting it on the table by the sword and the pensieve.
It took a few minutes to get everyone seated again, during which time Poppy brought out another top for Harry to put on as, with the tense situation past, he became rather self conscious with how much skin he was displaying.
"Okay, what the hell happened there?" Amelia finally asked after they were all sitting once again.
Harry grinned. "It happened basically like we said. Mister Malfoy came in blustering and demanding answers and when we told him where the Headmaster was, and who was with him, he decided to leave. It was obvious that Dobby belonged to the Malfoy's and, while he might not have gone about it in the best way, he really did do a lot to try to help this past year and I didn't want to see him still having to work for that wretched family. So, I grabbed he diary, wrapped my top around it and ran over, yelling out for Malfoy. When he turned I stuffed it in his arms and told him I was returning the diary to him. He unwrapped it and tossed the top aside and Dobby caught it-"
"You tricked Malfoy into freeing the elf," Kingsley barked out, laughing quietly while most of the adults grinned at him.
"What was that about returning the diary to him?"
"I figured it out when he walked in. I'd been wondering where it came from and how Luna got it so while you guys were in there we were talking. I asked her about it and she said she'd found it mixed in with her school books after she got back from Diagon Alley last summer." Harry turned more fully toward Amelia.
"Remember when we were at Flourish and Blotts?" he asked. "Luna was standing with Ginny Weasley and Malfoy Senior pulled her transfiguration book out of her cauldron. I think he slipped the diary in the books then when he put it back. Then he and Mister Weasley got into that fist fight and they knocked over the cauldron, Ginny, and Luna. I'd bet my broom that, when they picked up their books, Luna accidentally picked up the diary as well."
They thought about that for a minute. "That actually makes a disturbing kind of sense. It's long been suspected that Lucius deals in dark artifacts and such but we've never been able to prove it. Arthur Weasley has been conducted raids all year and Lucius is a favorite target of his. There's quite a bit of bad blood between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. If little Ginny had been opening the Chamber and was found out, Arthur would be ruined, especially if you hadn't come along and stopped it all, like you did."
"Unfortunately, we have no way to prove that," Kingsley pointed out, disappointment clearly written on his face.
"True, but I'll be keeping a much closer eye on Mister Malfoy from now on."
Conversation stopped while Poppy checked Harry over again to ensure that the excitement hadn't exacerbated anything with his condition. She only left after she found him to be exactly the same as her previous scans and admonished him to stay in bed and as calm as possible for the foreseeable future.
After she walked away again, leaving the rest of them to continue their conversation, Dumbledore started things off. "Those memories, were quite probably, some of the most amazing I have ever witnessed. You should be quite proud of your accomplishment, Lord Potter, in defeating the Basilisk. You have done this castle, and all those who live here a great service in protecting us all through your actions."
Harry frowned at that, looking down at his hands while Daphne and Susan took on confused expressions over what they felt.
"Harry?" Amelia asked, gently. "What is it?"
"That isn't why I did it," he muttered.
"Lord Potter?"
He looked up at Dumbledore. "I didn't do it to protect anyone but Daphne. I wasn't thinking about everyone else in the castle. I was thinking someone took Daphne. Someone hurt Hermione, and Neville. I wasn't thinking about saving everyone else, I was thinking about hurting whoever had hurt my friends. That's revenge, and didn't you say in my first year, Headmaster, that revenge was a dark path to walk?"
No one responded as the two most powerful wizards in the room stared at each other.
"You are very similar to Tom Riddle, aren't you, Harry?" Dumbledore suddenly asked causing most to blink in surprise and more than a few to glower in anger at the aged wizard.
"What?" Harry asked, confused by the strange question.
"Both of you raised without parents, both raised in unhealthy environments. Both quite brilliant in your own ways, if we go by your performance in class, and both of you quite powerful. The night you're talking about, I mentioned as such to Minerva. And I will honestly say that more than once the thought has occurred to me, comparing you to young Riddle. Aside from the similarities I have already mentioned, you both also gathered together close friends, powerful friends.
"You have the ear and confidence of the Director of the DMLE. You are friends with the Heirs of powerful families such as Longbottom, Greengrass, Zabini. If I'm not mistaken, I believe you've even recently entered into a business arrangement with the Lady Zabini, have you not?"
Harry nodded, almost despondently as the comparisons kept coming. "And the sorting hat said I could have done very well in Slytherin," he muttered.
"I could have, too, Harry," Daphne cut in, glaring at the Headmaster. "You're nothing like Riddle."
"But-"
"Miss Greengrass is quite correct," Dumbledore cut him off before he could get going. "I only point out the similarities between the two of you in order to further highlight your differences. Where Tom gathered close confidants, they were followers, not real friends. Where you were raised in a terrible environment, you do not torment, and hurt others for amusement, as Riddle did. Instead you seek to help and protect people from bullying and from danger for no reason other than it is the right thing to do.
"You might feel as if you succumbed to the darkness in your motivations, Harry, but I feel that I must disagree with you. Everyone has some darkness within them. Everyone has moments of anger, thoughts that would be… unkind, or even cruel. But you do not act on your thoughts. You choose to do what is right when you act, even if it is painful, or difficult." He smiled, his eyes twinkling madly. "In fact, I believe that is precisely why you were able to pull this sword from the hat," he said, picking up the sword from the table beside him and holding it carefully before him.
Harry blinked in surprise at that. "Huh?"
"This sword, belonged to one Godric Gryffindor," Dumbledore told them. "His name is etched into the blade here. This sword was created over a thousand years ago by the goblins and was gifted to Gryffindor for the actions that saw him earning the status as Friend to the Goblin Nation, something I understand you have also done. As such, I believe that this, rightfully, belongs to you."
He stood and held out the sword, hilt first toward Harry who simply stared at him in wide eyed shock and amazement.
"Wait… what?" he asked even as he reached for the handle and took the sword, examining it carefully.
"The House of Potter is directly descended from House Peverell. House Peverell was a branch of the Gryffindor line. You, Lord Potter, are a descendant of Godric Gryffindor. Hence why the sword came to you when you needed it. Only a true Gryffindor would be able to pull that sword from the hat."
"But… but the hat said… what?" Harry's voice was almost plaintive at the end, overwhelmed as he was by everything the old man was telling him.
"It honestly doesn't mean much, I assure you," Dumbledore told him as he took back the sword and set it aside. "You could claim rights to the House and use Gryffindor as part of your family name, if you chose. But other than the increased recognition you would receive, and increased scrutiny from our society, it does not include any other… perks... shall we say?"
Harry groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face.
"Yes, quite a shock, I can only imagine. I do believe that we have covered almost everything there is to cover save for, perhaps, a few small points. If you could, would you be willing to share what the hat said to you in the Chamber?"
Harry nodded and launched into retelling the conversation between him and the hat, grateful for anything to distract him at that moment. It didn't take long, and both Dumbledore and McGonagall were frowning by the end.
"That is… disappointing, to say the least," he admitted. "That the hat would feel thus… well, a promise is a promise. I would enjoy working together to help you with the hat's request. I do feel, however, that we must… clear the air, so to speak, before we can begin to consider that. We have much to discuss, you and I, don't we, Lord Potter? The anger you have shown for me this year I believe is one thing, and if I remember correctly you asked me a question last year, one I promised that I would answer in the future. I still, personally, feel that such a question should wait, but I am willing to discuss it with you now, should you still want to know."
He looked old and tired, once again as he said that and Harry stared at him while Amelia and the girls exchanged a look between the three of them, each remembering the day in question. With a jerk of her head, Amelia signaled Kingsley and he nodded, silently rising to his feet and urging Tonks, Mister Lovegood, and Luna to join him as he left the Hospital Wing. None of them said anything, and no one left around the bed spoke, either, until the door had swung shut leaving Harry, Amelia, the girls, and the two professors alone.
"Why me?" Harry whispered, finally. "Why did Voldemort attack me, why does he keep coming after me?
"Before that, I would like to address your anger with me, if I may?"
Harry frowned, feeling as if he was being brushed off again and that anger surged to the forefront of his mind. "You left me to this," he snapped, holding open his top to show the scars that covered his torso. "With few exceptions these were because of those monsters that you left me with, and you let him," he added the last at Professor McGonagall where she still stood behind the Headmaster. "What would you expect when I found out that you left me there other than for me to be pissed at you?"
"Nothing," Dumbledore admitted, sadly. "I would expect nothing but anger, even hatred, and I would deserve it."
Harry started at that admission but his glare didn't lessen and he only waited for Dumbledore to continue.
"Lord Potter, I made… I made a terrible mistake. I am an old man, some would call me wise from my years of experience. But I am still, only a man, and I make mistakes. For someone in my position, however, I regret to say that my mistakes impact others far more than someone else's mistakes might. I left you with your aunt, because I believed your mothers great sacrifice is what protected you the night Voldemort attacked your family. I used that protection to erect wards around your relative's home, wards that would prevent anyone magical from attempting to harm you.
"My two mistakes were that, first, I expected your aunt to love and care for you as her own. I could not believe that anyone could treat, or allow someone to treat, their own family, their own flesh and blood as you were treated. I knew that your mother, if the positions were reversed, would have taken guardianship of your cousin and treated him as a brother to you. It was pointed out to me last year that not everyone is as kind and compassionate as Lily Potter was.
"My second mistake was, in my arrogance, believing myself to be right that you would be loved and treated as family, that I did not check up on you as I should have. I had much to do, and I kept telling myself that you were with family, you were fine." He sighed and took off his half moon glasses, pinching the bridge of his crooked nose between his thumb and forefinger for a moment before replacing them. "I cannot ask your forgiveness, Harry, and I won't. I know I have not earned that right, and I realize that I may never. Since I discovered how life was for you I have done my best to ensure you never went back there. While Madam Bones investigated the case in her capacity I took action myself, helping to push it through the muggle courts, ensuring that you would not have to testify against them, and pushing for the maximum possible punishment for those responsible.
"I am trying, to make whatever amends that I can, and I offer my sincerest, most heartfelt apologies for every year, every minute, that you suffered with those… those people. Already I have blocked several attempts by some families to see you removed from Madam Bones care."
Susan and Amelia both looked sharply at the old man, shocked to hear that as Susan blurted out, "What!?"
"Some have argued that, with the nature of Director Bones' position and inherent danger to her and her family from enemies she has gathered in her years in Law Enforcement, that your placement with her is in fact a danger to you. I have argued against it several times and will continue to do so with all my influence. You need not worry that anyone will take you from your chosen home, that I promise you. And I do not tell you this to make you feel beholden to me. Obviously, this and more, is the least that I can do to repay even a portion of what I owe you for your years with the Dursley family. I only mention so that you understand that, whatever your justified anger toward me, I am on your side and I only have your best interests at heart. I swear that I will not interfere with you but hope, considering Riddle is still out there, that you might be able to work with me in the future."
"Why would I need to work with you?"
"Which brings me to the second point. Why you?" He stopped and peered over his glasses at Harry. "Are you quite certain you wish to know this now? I will answer, but I would prefer to wait until you are older."
"Tell me," Harry demanded, his face set and determined and Dumbledore sighed in defeat before nodding.
"Very well. It all started before you were born. A prophecy was given, one that I heard directly regarding a child and the Dark Lord. A Death Eater spy heard part of the prophecy and gave it to Riddle. That is what caused him to attack your family that night."
"Why did no one know of this?" Amelia demanded, practically growling in anger.
"I'm sure you can understand how important information control is during a war, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "The more people that know, the more dangerous it is. I will not tell you the exact wording of the prophecy, now, but I can say that it implied a child would be born at the end of July, one that would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord and born to parents that thrice defied him. Of all those involved in the war, only two couples ever came face to face with Voldemort and escaped with their lives on three separate occasions. Those would be your parents, and the Longbottoms."
Harry and the girls jerked in surprise at that and glanced sharply at each other before looking toward the privacy screens that hid Neville's bed.
"Neville?" Harry asked.
"Yes. You and Lord Longbottom were born only a few hours apart at the end of July, he late in the evening on the thirtieth, and you in the early morning hours of the thirty-first. Riddle came after your parents, personally. I find it telling that he sought to remove the halfblood, like himself, as opposed to the pureblood Longbottom."
"How do we even know this prophecy is true? Or that it's talking about Harry, or Voldemort?" Susan demanded. "What's the wording?"
"I cannot say that," Dumbledore said, raising his hands before him as they all started to protest, loudly. "I cannot say as that information can never get back to Voldemort. You do not know Occlumency and cannot protect that information."
"We're learning Occlumency," Harry stated but reluctantly admitted, "I've just gotten to the point where I can start building my shields, but not much further."
"Then continue to work on them," Dumbledore told them, honestly impressed that they even knew of Occlumency, much less that they were working on it. "In the future I will check your shields, if you like, and when you get to the point where you can hold me off I will tell you the exact wording. Believe me, though, that there are signs that point to it being a true prophecy, and one that specifically means Harry and Voldemort. But whether it is true or not, or even if it doesn't mean precisely what we think it means, Voldemort believes it to be true. That is why he attacked that night. That is why he will continue to attack in the future. He firmly believes Harry to be a threat to him and will stop at nothing to see that threat to him, and his power, eliminated."
Harry suddenly found himself almost bowled over and his arms filled with a thirteen-year-old girl as vibrant red hair obscured his vision. "You are going to listen to me, Harry Potter," Susan practically growled as she squeezed him, tightly. "I can already guess what's going to go through that brain of yours soon enough, and you're not going to push us away. You're not going to even think of distancing yourself from me, Daphne, and Hermione, not out of some noble thought of protecting us."
"But-"
"NO! We're in this together. We're tied to each other and we're not letting you get away, do you understand me?" she snapped. "We've been working ahead and we're going to keep working. We're going to train with you and help you and you're going to stay with us no matter what that maniac tries to pull."
"Harry, she's right. You know Hermione would say exactly the same thing, too," Daphne told him, her expression determined. "You mean too much to us, and you've left us behind too many times already. We're not letting you pull this lone hero thing anymore."
"But you're not going to spend your life like you're under a death sentence, either," Susan insisted, sitting up to look him in the eyes. "You're going to live, too. Just like your mother wanted you too. You're going to have fun, get in trouble, and live your life, with us. It's not going to be all work and training, we're going to make damn sure of that."
Harry hesitated for a minute and Susan frowned, growling angrily at him.
"Okay!" he blurted out, grinning despite himself at her behavior. "Okay, I promise. Together."
Susan's answering smile could have blinded him for how bright it was and she dove in to wrap her arms tightly around him again as, briefly, gentle wisps of gold and auburn light flared around them before fading away, unseen by either of them but easily noticed by everyone else in the room.
When Susan pulled away from him Amelia and Daphne were both smiling at them and she looked back and forth between the two, a confused look on her face.
"What?" she asked. "What's got the two of you grinning like a couple of loons?"
"We'll tell you about it later," Daphne said, reaching out to pull Susan off of Harry and back into her chair by the bed. "We'll need to get Madam Pomfrey to come join us."
Susan huffed at that but didn't press.
"Indeed, I believe that should be soon," Dumbledore said, laughing quietly. "The four of you are very special, and I am very much looking forward to what you achieve going forward. Miss Bones is quite correct, Lord Potter. You should prepare for the future, but do make sure you live your life to the fullest, as well."
He stood and vanished his armchair with a wave of his hand as McGonagall gathered up the pensieve and the diary. Dumbledore took the sword in hand.
"I do believe that this belongs to you, but I would keep it safe in a case in my office, if that is acceptable to you?" he asked and Harry simply nodded.
"It is nearing dinner time, so I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be seeing to it that you are stuffed to the gills before you sleep. A lot has been discussed today, but I feel there is still more that needs to be discussed in the future. I look forward to proving to you, to all of you, that we can and should work together."
When the professors had left Harry groaned and flopped back in his bed so he was laying down, staring up at the ceiling.
"Why is nothing in my life ever simple?" he asked of no one and everyone.
"The curse of being a Potter," Amelia told him with a gentle smile. "I've never heard of a Potter that didn't either do something important or was involved in something important going back centuries. The Potters always seem to be on the front line of any wars, fighting against the dark, always working to better our world." She reached out and patted his hand. "I'll be honest. I'm pissed at you for going down there alone, but honestly, I'm proud of you, too. And I don't think I can honestly expect anything but that kind of reaction from you, Harry. It's in your blood."
Harry scowled. "There's Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears in my blood," he muttered.
"And you're not to worry about it right now. It may very well come to nothing and worrying won't change anything," she admonished him.
He blew out a sigh and closed his eyes. "I know," he muttered. "It's not easy though."
"Life doesn't get any easier, kid," Amelia told him. "But you've got a hell of a lot of support to get you all through it. Don't forget that." She stood and stepped around the bed to hug both of the girls before she leaned down and pulled Harry into a hug as well, one which he gratefully returned. "I've got to get back to the office, for now. I intend to speak to Fudge about what we learned and check in with Kingsley and Tonks. I want them to wrap this case up and… well, there's a lot I need to do. But I'll be back in the morning to take you to Ollivander's and see about a new wand, okay?"
Harry nodded. "I should probably check in with the goblins too, like the hat told me. I don't know why, but hopefully we'll figure it out."
"Good idea, we can do that. Get some rest, Harry, we're going to have a full day tomorrow."
Once she was gone Harry and the girls spent the next hour chatting quietly amongst themselves before Madam Pomfrey came to check on them. Dinner was eaten in silence and before curfew the girls were evicted from the Hospital Wing, declared fit by the mothering Mediwitch and sent on their way with one bit of good news that had them smiling, even though they were being sent away.
"I have it on extremely good authority, that we'll be able to revive those petrified tomorrow afternoon," Poppy told them, smiling at the broad grins that spread across their faces. "We'll have Miss Granger back with you before dinner. And I'll want to see all four of you to check your bond again once she's up and moving around, am I understood?" she added the last in a stern tone of voice that didn't quite match the smile she couldn't keep off of her own face.
"Absolutely," both girls agreed before they hurried away in order to get back to the tower before curfew.
Despite the uncertainty of Harry's condition, and worry over what they'd learned from the Headmaster, all three bond mates fell asleep that night with smiles on their faces, excited for the return of one so close to them.
#####
Light flashed several times and a door slowly opened, allowing two cloaked figures to slip into a room deep beneath the Ministry of Magic. They turned to the far wall, staring at the four names written there that had occupied so many man hours and been the source of so much curiosity.
Golden lines, once barely an inch thick that had shifted and changed over the last year as certain lines grew thicker than others, were now all, once again, uniform and were three inches across. Furthermore, the names themselves had changed from simple, black lettering, to gleaming golden letters to match the lines that connected them all.
"Get Director Croaker," one of the figures said without turning to their partner. "They're going to want to see this."
